


The Father Paintmaster

by TattersTheBat



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Complete, Gen, Hollow Knight Spoilers, My First Work in This Fandom, Suicide Attempt, The Infection (Hollow Knight), What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TattersTheBat/pseuds/TattersTheBat
Summary: What if the little ghost accepted Sheo's humble offerings to allow it to lay down it's nail as well and pursue the arts? Sheo finds out in this story of an alternate ending not following any paths the higher beings expected of the Knight. Will fate allow this fatherly relationship, or will time catch up to them both?
Comments: 27
Kudos: 67





	1. Silent Peace

They say a man’s home is his castle. A fortress serving to keep him safe. The former nailmaster, Sheo, felt like the analogy was correct only in a roundabout way. While a house was a wonderful thing, spending too much time within its walls could turn one's castle into a prison. Indeed… in this quiet home at the edge of Greenpath, he was quite lonely, truth be told. His only true company was that of the creeping, thorny vines growing all over the corridor, and while they were technically alive, they weren’t much for conversation.

Normally, he didn’t mind. The silence was a gift, he found. It provided him with an endless well of focus. Focus he could put towards his artworks… paintings nobody would view save for a passing glance. Sometimes he did feel those inescapable pangs of loneliness in his own little corner of the world.

Sometimes he did wish for a visitor. Someone who could appreciate his colorful works without being the type he was guilty of once being. That was wishful thinking, he had deduced that much for so long.

That is, until today. It was like any other, really - he had woken up and continued adding strokes of various paints to his current canvas. This piece was actually a remaster of sorts, of an old work of the very area his home sat within. With his easel placed in the wide open area of this little hut, he had a very nice view of the outdoors, so the painting’s level of detail could be quite intensive.

Just as he was adding a few thorns to a vine, he stilled his brush, as he heard soft footsteps outside. Placing his tool of the trade into a jar filled halfway with cleaning-purposed water, he turned to see a silhouette becoming clearer in the door frame.

It was a small shadow, belonging to an equally tiny bug. It had a pale mask with two round eyeholes, the space behind them completely dark. On the top of the mask were two horns, with indents on the top, stretching upwards with a slight curve. The bug wore a dulled blue cloak, the body underneath seeming to match the black color of its eyes. The artist’s eyes drifted up slightly to see that the bug carried a nail holstered on its back.

Before he could do anything, the figure approached. It was almost eerie, watching it step forth wordlessly. It’s legs hardly made any noise on the soft ground of the hut as it drew near. Then, it raised its head, its dark eyes seeming to meet with Sheo’s own. However, the small bug did not speak, leaving the artist with no other option than to break the silence with conversation.

“A visitor!” He began in the warmest tone he could muster in the circumstances. “Why have you crept in here, little grub?” He waited just a moment, continuing when it was made clear that this bug was not much for conversation. “Perhaps, like me, you have a taste for discovering new things?”

He was unsure what made him immediately draw that parallel, but the bug seemed to not lose interest, so he had little choice but to continue speaking. He realized what the bug was likely after…

“I am Sheo, and in a previous life I was a Nailmaster. Yes, the only thing that drove me was becoming stronger and honing my skills with a nail.” He continued with a subtle nod to the creature. It had been a great deal of time since he could give this kind of spiel to one who was willing to listen. “I imagined it was my one calling in life, but that feeling faded over time. Now I seek a new calling, something that speaks to my soul and compels me forward.”

As if to demonstrate what he was saying, Sheo picked up his brush, letting it add a few delicate strokes to the canvas, adding more detail to the thorns already placed upon the painted vines.

“That's why I spend my time here, secluded, trying to master the art of creation. Painting, sculpting... these things bring a different kind of pleasure.” Now he stopped, for he noticed the bug lower its head slightly. Sheo internally braced a bit, seeing the mysterious creature suddenly unsheath it’s nail - the blade was old, cracked. Though he had long abandoned his identity as a nailmaster unless specifically called for, his new path of the arts had given him an eye for such specifics.

The bug’s head seemed to jolt. It almost looked… panicked? It was like watching a creature learn a new emotion when it had never felt it before. No, it was more than that… why, it was like the bug had never been meant to feel emotions at all, and now it suddenly had that goal tainted as it looked between its nail and Sheo’s brush.

“...Have you, too, grown weary of the weight of a nail?” He was simply trying to make sense of the situation. It was an odd creature, this short bug that stood before him. What did it seek? Why did it seem so intensely curious yet confused at the artist’s story?

It felt like he had made a mistake, as though he was obstructing the bug’s true purpose, whatever that was... yet at the same time, it did seem so interested in the brush Sheo proceeded to pick up.

“Was it Sheo the Nailmaster you were looking for? Did you come to learn a Nail Art?” His inquiry was mostly out of politeness as well as to combat his feelings of breaking a boundary not meant to be shattered.

Yet, the creature shook its pale head, gesturing to the brush.

“You wish to learn the way of painting, little grub?” His voice carried a tone of surprise as he looked at the ghost-like bug. Not a moment later, he felt his eyes desiring to water beneath his own mask, though he did not allow it.

A pupil, and a silent one at that. It was just the type of company he never knew would exist. In that moment, he decided he would be the best mentor to this bug that he could ever be, if only to pass on his own acquired skills to whoever the little ghost met next.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his two brothers had seen this pale creature in their own quiet homes, if they had passed on their skills to it as well. With no way to really tell, he decided to put it in the back of his mind for now, as to better focus on his new assignment of teaching this artist to be.

“I will gladly teach you… everything I know.” Though he knew the bug wouldn’t be able to tell, Sheo smiled beneath his mask, placing his current work aside and selecting a fresh canvas so he could teach the basics to this traveler.

He dipped his brush into a well containing a bright color, placing it upon the canvas with the might one might expect from a standard nail. Though he had abandoned combat, it still found ways into his work.

The pale bug watched eagerly the entire time, as though in a trance. Sheo couldn’t be happier.


	2. Different Callings

“Good morning…” Sheo yawned, as he stepped outside of his little hut, looking to the bench where his pupil oddly insisted to sleep. He supposed the magenta cloth he had draped on it was rather soft. It was better than the floor, by all means.

However, that bench was currently empty. He scanned the area, his expression becoming solemn. It would appear that his student had left overnight… a shame, but he supposed it wasn’t meant to last. No good thing was, after all.

With a heavy sigh, he returned to his own work, looking at the piece he had used to tutor the strange bug. He picked up the canvas he had previously been working on, but he couldn’t bear to cast the project aside. He placed his old art back against the wall, looking at the brush strokes on the newer one - the larger ones of his own, and the more unstable, fresh strokes belonging to his pupil.

His former pupil, he thought.

He spent the rest of the morning painting away, adding details but leaving the patch “belonging” to the silent bug completely alone. It wasn’t until around the Hallownestian equivalent of Noon that he felt something - a tug on his cloak. Curious, he looked down, and much to his surprise, he saw the small bug once more standing there.

“Oh, it’s you!” He said, expressing his shock. “I apologize, I thought you had returned to your journey. May I ask where you went off to?”

As if to answer the question, the bug began to tug on Sheo’s cloak. He had no choice but to follow them - his curiosity was frankly overwhelming. Thus, he did follow it, at least, until it brought him to the long thorn pit on the corridor outside of the one containing his home.

“I must admit, I’m not in proper shape to make jumps such as this…” He stated, first glancing out at the floating, armored bugs over the thorns, then returning his gaze to his student… who was currently climbing up the wall effortlessly. Impressive!

Before he could comment on the matter further, the small bug threw down a hefty-looking vine, allowing Sheo to make his way up. He pulled himself onto the grassy ledge with a grunt, looking around at the rather secretive passage the fledgeling had discovered.

He wondered if this had always been here… he rarely went even this far, as the herbs growing around his hut provided him plenty of nourishment. He figured it was a one-way trip, so he had gotten quite comfortable.

Still, he wasn’t sure about this trip… he kept a mental image of the path they were taking, so he didn’t get lost on the return or if they ended up separated. Eventually, they crossed over the room, and for the first time in a long while, Sheo was standing in the main corridors of Greenpath.

His eyes were tearing up again. It had been so long since he had seen sights so wonderful. The leaves and mosses adorning the walls of the caverns carried such a contrasting ambience to the harsh thorns around his house. Even going this far was such an adventure, yet the little ghost continued to press on, and so he followed.

“It has been… some time, since I have left that place.” He made a motion with his head to indicate he was referring to his home. “How far are you taking me, I wonder?” He accompanied this pondering with a slight chuckle, to make sure the smaller bug knew it was a lighthearted remark.

As expected, the pupil’s response was silently leading onward, and Sheo in turn followed closely behind. Soon the scenery changed, from the flowering Greenpath, to a dusted, blue storeroom situated in a tall cavern. These crossroads… he only briefly passed through them on his initial odyssey to where he called home.

A much shorter trip brought them to a bulky chain leading up. Sheo could faintly see a light above. Was this… the exit to Hallownest? With all the time he had spent down here, he had begun to doubt there truly was a world beyond these lands, yet here it was.

Sure enough, the bug began to climb. The nailmaster waited until it finished it’s ascent, and worked to join it as it looked down what was apparently a small well, broken down due to the marching of time. Another groan escaped the artist as he made it onto solid ground once more, releasing the chain.

He looked up, feeling wind entering the eye cavities in his mask, escaping onto his face. Wind… another such thing that he rarely experienced if ever. He felt many emotions, being up here.

His eyes fell upon what seemed to be a quiet town established all the way up here. It was inspiring! Why, if he had just brought his supplies, he felt certain he could slam down a canvas and start working on a new painting here and now!

Yet, the town as a whole didn’t seem to be the destination, rather a more specific building. Sheo scratched his head as the bug went towards the open door. He slowly followed, stopping to bow slightly to another bug with a somewhat sagging face, his expression that of an unshakable frown.

“Hello. I am visiting from Greenpath. What is this place?” He found himself asking, figuring a spot of conversation wouldn’t hurt before he caught up with his student.

“Ah, this is Dirtmouth. Or at least, it used to be. Though some activity has returned, the town is not as bustling as it once was… not that I mind.” The elderly bug explained.

“I prefer the quiet as well.” Sheo responded with a slight nod. “Good day to you.”

He ducked a bit so he could properly enter the small building the shorter bug had entered. He found a pair of large eyes on a small head staring back, and it was perhaps an even more shocking sight than what he had observed so far.

“...Master?”

It was unmistakable. This was his own teacher, the great nailsage himself. Though his normal red cloak was replaced with a dull blue one not unlike the novice artist’s, he’d always recognize his master’s face.

“Sheo! ...Is that you?” The small shopkeeper leaned over his counter to get a better look at the paintmaster. “My pupil, when this strange bug left so abruptly, I did not expect a visit such as this!”

“Master, it has been so long…! How are you faring?” He kneeled out of respect to his teacher, who simply chuckled.

“Uneventful, really! Yet, thanks to my best patron,” he gestured to the silent bug, “I have gotten quite wealthy. Though I have laid my nail down for this path, as you seem to have for the brush, I still fondly remember training you.”

“Indeed… I have found this new calling. To be truthful, I was afraid of what you might have thought of this, but it puts me at ease to see that you have similarly parted from the ways of combat.”

“And what of your kin? How are Oro and Mato?” Sly asked.

“They… I’m afraid I do not know. I have not seen them since the four of us went our separate ways. I hope they are doing well.”

“I see…”

The pale bug stood, watching them converse for a little longer, before Sheo finally stood up and bowed deeply, Sly returning the favor. Both had unwavering respect for each other after events in the past which the bug could not possibly know…

“Farewell, Master. I hope I can visit again.”

“All three of you are always welcome here! Especially if you have geo, heh.” His shopkeeper facade had returned to form.

With a smile beneath his mask, Sheo followed the pale bug as it led him out of the shop and back down the well, following the route in reverse to return to the hut at the edge of the world. That was a weight lifted off his back, seeing his master again doing well.

What an odd bug. He wondered how it knew to bring him there. Had Sly told it of his status as the great nailsage?

Those were questions to ask another time.


	3. Plagued Dreams

Several months had passed since the journey to Dirtmouth. Sheo noticed his pupil growing - not by a tremendous amount, but noticeable nonetheless. Its horns had begun to widen, at the very least. On occasion, he failed to remember this was a living thing - it didn’t eat, it didn’t drink, and it hardly seemed to sleep. It’s demeanor seemed as though it wasn’t meant to even feel much of anything.

Still, his student found many ways to express itself. Its artwork, though noticeably abstract, contained plenty of passion - perhaps more than Sheo himself put into his works. Each new canvas the dark being completed brought a smile, and occasionally tears, to Sheo’s face. This bug was a beacon of hope for him, allowing him to pass down his dreams and see it succeed in them…

Despite all of this, the emotions he felt upon the creature’s acceptance of his offer hung heavy over him, especially when he was trying to sleep and could not bring forth thoughts to mask or challenge them. Something about this bug struck him as very important, not to him, but to Hallownest as a whole.

Was he obstructing some unreached destiny? Had he interfered in matters that would have been better left alone, all for a scrap of happiness?

Several observations served to raise his insatiable guilt further. During an outdoors painting session, two thorn-filled vines collided, releasing a disgusting orange substance Sheo was hopeful he would never see again. Once, in just the previous month, he swore he heard a loud, distant scream.

Not too long after the nightmares hit their worst point, Sheo was awoken early one morning by the tugging of the little ghost. It seemed to have a sense of urgency - it was gaining more emotions like that the longer it spent with him, he noticed.

“What is it, little grub?” That had become an affectionate nickname for the student. He had used it off-hand when they first met, and well… without another name for it, it stuck. “Has something happened?”

Before he had even finished speaking, he was being practically dragged out the door. He had no choice but to follow! Persistent, and surprisingly strong. Both described this little friend quite well. He didn’t bother taking his time catching up to the bug, stepping out once again from the cavern that contained his home.

He gasped, horrified. Huge, unsightly cysts coated various parts of the wall, the air full of a sickly orange mist, matching the vile color in the bulbs. Several additional bubbles seemed to be forming on equally-colored vines branching from the clusters. An overbearing sweet smell filled the air, stinging Sheo’s eyes as he saw the various armored bugs now trapped in the vines below. To his further disgust, the tangerine cysts had begun to even grow on their shells, which he once thought impenetrable.

“This is horrible…”

Then, a thought struck the artist. This bug was unlike anything he had seen. It appeared to move with purpose, but without emotion, when it first arrived at his hut. This wasn’t his first encounter with the infection, either - it had been in its early stages by the time he settled into his home in Greenpath, and the vines that grew around his house were apparently filled with it. It was a wonder he hadn’t fallen, too. He recalled how the sickness was said to be spread via dreams… something a mindless bug wouldn’t have, of course.

Was that it, then? Was that the destiny he was keeping this bug from? If his theories were correct, it was a beacon, a hero, meant to contain this very infection within a thoughtless head. Then why did it fail? Why did his questions cause it to falter? So many questions laid unanswered…

“I’m so sorry.” He said without properly thinking, his eyes tearing up both from the thoughts and the pungent mist in the air. “This is what you were meant to prevent, is it not? The way you acted when we first met...”

Of course, the ‘little grub’ didn’t respond. It couldn’t - which only further fueled Sheo’s currently wild mind. That roar, which felt like an eternity ago… was that the kingdom’s last breath? Did anything remain beyond this sanctuary?

Finally, the tears came, rolling down the artist’s cheeks beneath his mask. Some droplets leaked outside of his shell, falling tenderly to the moss below. He had to set this right, somehow. Or was it too late?

He was stirred from his crying by the feeling of a hand. He looked down, seeing the bug grabbing his hand. Noticing Sheo was looking, it looked up to meet his gaze. Though it’s eyes were still devoid of any emotion whatsoever, he could tell that this was meant as a comforting gesture… though he did not feel he deserved it. He had messed with the very hand of fate itself.

Masking his mood with a forced chuckle, he cautiously rubbed the top of the bug’s pale head, turning his back to the infection and hobbling back towards his home - perhaps the final remaining safe place in the entire kingdom. That was quite a shock to think about. He could only hope there were further survivors.

He sat down on the bench outside his door, sighing heavily. He shuffled to the side, noticing his student attempting to join him. It made it up onto the surface. Even though the little one was maturing, the differing size between them was nearly comedic, something Sheo would’ve laughed at if his mood hadn’t been soured.

“I remember seeing a statue, in the city, once.” Sheo began, speaking to his pupil but staring off into space. “I didn’t spend a lot of time there, but I remember a memorial of sorts. It had a plaque at the bottom - the whole thing was likely ordered by the king.”

“Though, I don’t remember the whole thing. It ended with, ‘through its sacrifice, Hallownest lasts eternal.’ Heh…” His chuckle was weak as he continued. “There were three figures surrounding one much larger creature. It… resembled you, I must admit. I have no choice but to assume your fate was to replace it, and it failed in its task.”

He now looked down at the bug, who was staring back up at him. If it could express emotions, Sheo detected it might have been a look of determination, though he only had stiff posture to deduce that from. Though he was so thankful to have taken in this apparent knight as a student at the time, it was clear this was not where it was meant to be. Would it even be able to save Hallownest now? It had been so long since it had even held a nail…

He once again failed to find the time to properly ask himself these questions, as he looked up at the sound of footsteps. Just as he was getting up to investigate, he nearly fell backwards, managing to catch himself on the sturdy bench as a long, thin weapon shot up, hitting the ceiling of the room.

Riding a thin line of silk attached to the handle of the odd weapon, another pale-masked bug zipped up, landing on the edge with a stern expression in her eyes as she pulled back her blade. She wore a tattered, faded cloak that was perhaps once a vibrant crimson.

“So, this is where you’ve hidden!”


	4. Thread of Fate

“This is where you have been, all this time…” The figure spoke, addressing Sheo’s pupil, who seemed indifferent to her appearance altogether. “For long I have waited for you to show yourself, but after a month, I began to lose hope.”

“Hold on.” Sheo stated, trying to defuse the clearly frustrated newcomer. “What is all of this about?” He knew he was probably already familiar with the answer based on what he had gathered thus far, but he needed confirmation, once and for all.

“You… you are the reason we continue to suffer, then?” Her tone grew somehow more stern, as she raised her needle to point at the artist. “The Ghost of Hallownest, the only one showing hope to prolong Hallownest’s stasis if not vanquish it entirely. Our final beacon of hope. A prisoner.”

“It came here upon its own will.” Sheo, despite his gentle demeanor, did not back down in defending the bug. Though he had so many questions, he had grown attached to his student as though it were his adopted child. “I merely made an offer it chose to accept. What could it have done to prevent this infection’s spread?”

“There is no point exhausting the tale to another. It is far too late now.” She said, her voice lowering. “To think it would selfishly cast the kingdom’s fate away so it could pick up a hobby, of all things - it was never truly worthy to bear the burden after all.”

The knight seemed to lower its head. Sheo knew it had gained many emotions it was not meant to feel. Joy… creativity… shame… gratitude. It learned so much, but to its own detriment. Was Sheo truly to blame for the fall of the Kingdom, for making his offer to pass down his teachings?

“That is far from the truth!” Sheo claimed, struggling to come up with any supporting evidence to his lies. “It has proven to be an excellent student. I’m certain it could overcome any challenge Hallownest offers!”

“Hmph! Then prove it!” She turned to the pale bug once more. “Raise your nail against me, little ghost, and prove that you can still hold the name of the Hollow Knight!” Those words finally put the last pieces into place in Sheo’s mind. This was the replacement for the silent, lonesome creature meant to contain this horrible illness.

And he had ruined it for the entire kingdom.

To his surprise, the knight did not seem to falter in rushing inside, emerging with its nail - which Sheo had always kept, as a memory if nothing further. His eyes nearly began to water with pride, especially as the knight braced the nail, revealing a small sketch of Sheo’s own face on the lower part of the blade, painted by the bug. Despite everything that had happened since it strayed from its quest, it still carried its nail with the might it held when they first met.

Sheo backed away, knowing this was a fight between the mysterious intruder and the knight holding its nail aloft. This was a battle for the fate of the kingdom, and that was something he would never forgive himself for interrupting.

Though the air in the cavern was normally still, it seemed to move faster on command as the red-cloaked bug raised her needle. From there… the fight began.

With each connecting hit, Sheo internally cringed a bit. The knight was clearly… losing. It truly had lost its strength, its way, through all the training with the brush, though the two tools were not so different. It didn’t help that the other bug was not holding back in the slightest, zipping across the air and throwing her needle with such powerful intent.

Now, the paintmaster could see the fatigue present in his pupil. Its posture was beginning to falter. It couldn’t survive another attack, yet the intruder did not let up. Sheo knew he had to intervene, and he used the opportunity to do so.

Just as the girl’s needle flew out once more, Sheo rushed forward, unsheathing a brush as he parried the strike with an equal force, thanks to his larger size giving him a physical strength advantage. The needle fell to the side, Sheo’s breathing heavy.

“I knew it.” She said coldly. “The ghost could no longer hope to contain the plague - it would be destroyed if it dared to try, especially at the potency the infection has reached. Step aside. Though it is noble of you to protect it, it has failed its single calling.”

“It has learned a new calling!” Sheo interjected, waving his brush tensely. “Though it has abandoned the nail, it has created many works of art. We are lucky to live in a world where we can forge our own destinies. It shouldn’t be bound to a choice made by another!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her expression remained stern. “I have watched this kingdom wither away. I was its princess, responsible for leading this very knight to its destined path. Now that it has abandoned that goal, I am taking charge of the kingdom’s future!”

“Its… princess?”

“Indeed. I am Hornet.” She finally said. “I am the ghost’s sibling of sorts. A third sibling took on the near impossible task of containing all of the infection into itself, using an emptiness that has long since left the shell you stand by... all because of you.”

“So what?” Sheo loudly declared. “It shouldn’t matter the circumstances of its creation. It may have been hollow then, but now it has learned so many things, as have I from it! I see it now as family… the only family I’ve been truly attached to for so long!”

“So you would selfishly keep it from fulfilling its one and only goal. Fine then!” Hornet straightened her posture sharply, remaining in a fighting stance. “You wish so badly to protect it? Then prove it. At this rate, we may be the only things remaining in this vanishing kingdom!”

Just as she raised her needle, and Sheo his brush, they were both interrupted by a distant roar. It was the very same roar that echoed across the cavern not too long ago, that had struck at Sheo in his nightmares. Did it belong to the being that Hornet and the statue referred to, the Hollow Knight? Hornet's next words expressed the urgency of the situation, forcing the artist to assume he was correct.

“There’s no time for us to fight.” Hornet looked very conflicted now, dropping her tense shoulders. “I have to stop it. Its all I can do, and it is my only remaining task at saving this kingdom.”

“Wait, I-” Sheo put out a hand to stop her, not even knowing what he’d say, just wanting to offer his skills to make up for his mistakes. Hornet was already gone, however, quickly zipping away using her threaded needle once more.

“We have to go after it, too.” He looked down at his pupil. “I - We can still set things right, even if it means a fight neither of us are ready for.”

The knight nodded, as Sheo jumped down to the lower part of the room, walking towards that big, thorn-filled corridor. The only barrier between his home and the infected whole of Hallownest…


	5. The Black Egg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next will contain SPOILERS for the Final Boss of Hollow Knight. Please take great caution in reading if you have not yet completed the game.

Grunting, Sheo once again hoisted himself up into the narrow cavern above the infected thorn pit, the knight joining him quickly. Funnily enough, just as he did so long ago, the knight had once again dropped its nail in exchange for a paintbrush. While he wasn’t at all in doubt that his pupil could wield it like its old weapon, he wondered if it had picked up any of his secret techniques…

He hardly fit in the cavern anymore, though he assumed it was more due to the illness causing the flora to forcefully expand than his own size. Eventually, the two of them reached the hole dropping back to the start of the cavern. He dropped down first, waiting for his pupil to follow suit.

“I must confess,” he said, “I haven’t the faintest idea about where your kin could have gotten off to.” Thankfully, the masked bug seemed to be familiar with the destination, nodding and taking the lead as the artist silently followed behind. There wasn’t much to talk about now, not after what had occurred, and what they now faced.

The kingdom was in ruins, and it was all his fault…

Did the little knight feel that way? Could it? He thought he had asked himself enough questions by now, but his artistic mind birthed an insatiable curiosity whether he liked it or not. His gaze stayed locked on the back of the pale mask surrounding the bug’s head as the two of them traveled through the infected whole of Greenpath, finally returning to the large storeroom from before.

Another horrendous roar echoed out, much louder and closer. It was accompanied by a splintering sound, as though some kind of barrier was being broken further and further.

The crossroads themselves were in no better shape than Greenpath, with the same sweet-smelling orange cysts making themselves at home across the walls of the caverns. It was nearly unbearable. Further sickening the paintmaster, the infection had fully taken over many bugs, particularly the gruzzers. Their long trunks shivered, their eyes watering with orange tears, which they dropped at random in the form of large, acid-like drops of infection. The knight made certain Sheo remained under the cover of the room’s scale-like platforms as they made their way to the upper exit of the room.

Finally, they were once again standing below the well. The tangerine mist drifted upwards, but did not seem to pierce the air above. Good, Sheo thought. His master was safe at least. It wasn’t that he doubted the skills of his superior, more so he worried deeply about the might of this sickness…  
The knight did not ascend the chain this time, however, instead proceeding forward. It put up a hand in warning, so Sheo stayed back, watching as the bug jumped down and immediately retreated… as a growl resounded, and an orange explosion occurred against the wall below.

Had a bug just… blown itself up?

He shook his head, not wanting to think of that as the knight tugged him across the cavern, to a higher up ledge. While he had little trouble lifting himself onto it, his pupil needed to use the ledges against the wall to make the jump.

Finally, they entered a quiet cavern. Huge cysts seemed to leak out of the eyes of what appeared to be a giant skull, or a facade of a building shaped like one. It was a haunting image, and yet it almost seemed to pull in the masked wanderer. All the artist could do was follow to see its path through.

Inside, things were even more quiet, their footsteps interrupting the silence as they echoed out, bouncing from wall to wall. On a raised platform in the center of the room, Hornet stood. Behind her, was a cracked egg-like fixture, with three masks on it. Each had a faint light glow that seemed to flicker. One had a single eye, one had four, and one had six. All of their piercing gazes seemed to matter not.

“Stop.” Hornet said coldly, yet firmly. “Come no further. You have made a grave mistake in coming here. It cannot possibly fulfill its intended purpose. It has chosen its path.”

“This has all been my fault.” Sheo admitted, his voice heavy. “I want to help set it right. We both will, no matter what. We will save this kingdom.” Not even he was sure where this confidence was coming from… he had not truly fought in combat since his glory days as a nailmaster. Yet the brush and the nail, the two were not so dissimilar…

Hornet had little time to argue another point, as a roar echoed out in the temple. She braced herself as the shell of the egg structure loudly cracked. The glow surrounding each mask seemed to shatter.

“It is almost free.” Hornet lamented. “If you can fight, prove it. Just know we may yet doom the kingdom. I cannot know what will happen, whether we win or lose. I was not gifted with that mighty power of foresight…”

Now there were audible strikes being made on the other side of the egg. They were far and few between, but definitely there. The shell was beginning to give. The knight braced it’s brush, causing Hornet to look quite dumbfounded - even more so as Sheo raised his own.

“You cannot possibly hope to fight with a brush?” She asked.

“It doesn’t matter what weapon we use,” Sheo said with a chuckle. “In the end, we followed different callings. We’re just as much masters with these brushes as you are with that needle.”

“That isn’t possible.” Her retort was cold, a recurring theme. “My needle is a lethal weapon of combat. A brush is nothing more than a tool of the arts, something that won’t even exist if we fail here, or even if we succeed…”

“Combat is a type of art.” Sheo insisted, remaining calm despite the circumstances he was dreading. “I was able to parry your needle with my brush before. We are not so different. Keep in mind… I was once a nailmaster. You shouldn’t underestimate me.”

“You’re one of the ones trained under the great nailsage?” She tilted her head. “Perhaps there is a chance, then. Just know, the fate of the kingdom rests not only on my shoulders, but yours as well. When it breaches, we will-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence, as the egg finally gave in, one last roar causing an unnatural wind to fill the cavern as the shell practically combusted. It broke into pieces, the debris flying everywhere as Hornet raised her needle to protect herself from the harsh shockwave. The knight did the same, as Sheo just looked on, raising his brush to protect his head but not being shifted by the wind.

There, in the wake of the Black Egg, stood the Hollow Knight.

The artist was shocked at how closely it resembled his student - it was much taller, and it’s horns much more grown, but the similarities stood strong. However, it had a crack through one eye, and both of its eyeholes were flooding with an orange glow. It’s tattered green cloak settled with it’s terrible posture, as it held its purely-formed yet cracked nail with it’s only hand.

This was a fight they needed to win.


	6. Sealed Vessel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains SPOILERS for Hollow Knight's final boss, as well as a character's attempted suicide, though not too intensely described. You have been warned!

The Hollow Knight did not hesitate after seeing the group standing outside the Black Egg. It raised its nail, haphazardly performing a wide-reaching triple slash attack. While Hornet and the Knight dodged the strikes, Sheo stood his ground, parrying the incoming final hit with his brush - catching the beast off-guard.

He jumped backwards powerfully, dipping his brush in yellow paint and holding it close, throwing out a large spike of golden paint that caused the Hollow Knight to stumble backwards. It remained upright, angrily, doing a charging thrust attack that Sheo barely managed to avoid.

Thankfully, he was far from vulnerable - the knight stepped in to protect him, slashing at its kin as much as it could. However, the taller vessel seemed to practically warp, appearing at the top of the room. Hornet and the knight dashed backwards out of the way, as the Hollow Knight completed a drop slash, creating glowing, yellow infernos across the ground.

The paintmaster got back up, noticing that his pupil was standing on one of the affected spots. He rushed in, managing to get both the knight and himself out of the way as the areas erupted into ceiling-high pillars! The yellow light illuminated Sheo’s mask, but that wasn’t all - it also lit up nearly invisible silk strings!

Hornet pulled back her needle, which caused all of those strings to pull towards the center of the room. Just as the Hollow Knight rose once more, it was bound by the silk! It let out another beastly roar. Just as things were looking up, it snapped its constraints right off!

The three of them lost sight of the opponent again, as it vanished into the darkness of the temple… this time dropping directly on top of Sheo. His shell protected him from the full force of the strike, as he barely managed to shake off the falling enemy with a splatter of blue paint. Its vision now seemed to be obstructed!

Sheo now looked down at the knight, noticing his pupil was no longer at his side. He looked around, just in time to witness the bug unleash a wave of magic resembling a fireball with eyes!

“Incredible…” Was this a capability of his student all along? It seemed to carry more strength than he thought! His wonder was cut short, as the Hollow Knight began blindly swinging its nail around. Sheo rolled away quickly, performing a jump as he swung his brush, red paint splattering down and he did his own version of a drop slash.

Though he was slightly off the mark, he still struck the hunched back of the fearsome enemy, causing it to fall to a crouch if only for a moment. Taking advantage of the moment, Hornet threw her needle attached to a thread, aiming for the back of the Hollow Knight’s head… as it roared, creating a shockwave that caused her own needle to come flying back at her, bludgeoning her head as she fell backwards in surprise!

Perhaps even more shocking, as Sheo and the Knight looked back at the enemy, it raised its nail… and plunged it directly into its own chest, revealing numerous bulbs filled with yellow-orange substances, likely the infection. The nail went directly through, yet the enemy showed no signs of perishing. Was it… trying to hurt itself?

The sight nearly brought a tear to Sheo’s eye - for such a horrendous enemy to wish to perish, something had to be critically wrong. Did it, too, have emotions it shouldn’t have gained? Did it know what it was doing, and did it have full control?

He had little time to ponder, as the cysts lining the Hollow Knight’s chest seemed to take over, pulling the foe off the ground and into the air. It faltered, beginning to slam down repeatedly, attempting to hit all three of them! Sheo managed to keep out of the way, and Hornet did the same. The knight, however, did seem to realize what was happening, getting hit once as it jumped back in surprise.

“Be careful!” Sheo said, his protective side getting the better of him as he shielded his pupil from another descent, taking the full force. He looked back, seeing the monster had begun to stab through itself once more. “What is it… doing?”

“We have a job to finish!” Hornet yelled, lunging between Sheo and the beast as she threw her needle skillfully at its head, forcing it down to her level as she called to the Knight. She had created a huge opening!

The Knight wasted no time, attacking its kin with brush stroke after brush stroke as Hornet struggled to hold on to the beast’s head. Eventually, she yelped a bit as the string broke, causing her to fall backwards as her needle plunged itself into the wall of the temple.

Now, the Hollow Knight stood up tall, the edges of its cloak bursting outwards as the cysts seemed to grow. It launched a line of infectious globs, which practically rained down from above. Sheo rolled back once again, pulling the Knight away. Despite everything, if he hadn’t accompanied it, it would have surely fallen by now…

He dipped his brush in a bright pink inkwell, holding it up as he produced a massive explosion of paint. It fell down in thick globs, combating the rain of infection and seeming to weigh down the Hollow Knight with each additional hit.

Sheo zoned out, tired from that larger attack. He looked up as the Hollow Knight made a single, wide slash in his direction… he braced himself for the strike, but it didn’t come. He opened his eyes, seeing the knight locking nails with its sibling. It was an impasse now - the strength of the infection versus the will of his once-empty pupil. Neither was overpowering the other.

The whole room seemed to have gradually filled with an orange mist, which now began to get so intense it obstructed Hornet and Sheo’s view of the fight. Yet, the nails’ edges pushing against each other echoed out with a great importance. It had to be nearly weakened now. All they needed was for the knight to overpower its kin one more time…

Clang!

One of them had finally faltered. Sheo rushed into the mist, seeing the silhouettes as the Hollow Knight staggered backwards. Before he could raise a hand to pull the Knight away, Hornet intervened, holding her needle once more. She zipped to the top of the broken Black Egg, throw her needle into the back of the Hollow Knight as it let out another violent scream.

With one huge motion, she flung the beast back within, as the Knight followed it. As it vanished into the darkness, Sheo held up a hand as though he could stop it. Echoing slashes indicated it was battling back its kin, back to whatever chamber it had crawled out of.

The slashing got more and more distant, and then one particularly loud slash echoed out. A powerful wind seemed to blow from within the temple, tangerine-colored mist pouring out like mad from the arch of the door.

Sheo knew what his pupil was trying. He couldn’t allow it.

“What are you doing!? Those bindings are still active!” Hornet yelled in protest, retracting the needle as its silk had been snapped by now. “You’ll die if you go in there!”

“I’m not going to lose my family. I hardly know my own brothers, I’m not going to let that happen to the closest I have to a child!” He yelled, charging against the fierce wind and vanishing into the darkness. Hornet jumped down, squinting to see into the Black Egg, but it was much too shaded. She couldn’t see a thing. She didn’t know what to think…

Sheo, meanwhile, ran faster than he thought he ever could. His legs felt like they wanted to give out. Hornet had not been kidding about the draining force present within the enormous, empty hallway. Glowing monoliths appeared as he drew closer to the end, and finally, he saw it. The Hollow Knight’s chamber.

Broken chains were scattered all around it, as the Hollow Knight was on the ground, clenching its chest as the Knight stood before it… obviously intending something Sheo knew would be regretted.

Despite the overpowering forces weighing down on him, he marched into the room, practically having to crawl out of weakness. He placed a hand on the Knight as it squirmed, trying to break Sheo’s hold over it. He found it so difficult to have to firmly deny fate itself, though it was moments from coming true.

He knew it wouldn’t mean anything, and the sacrifice would be in vain. Without the emptiness that Sheo had deprived it of, the Knight would only become infected and the cycle would repeat. The only difference would be, his student would be easier to control, and to break.

Thankfully, due to the lack of bindings, Sheo was able to exit the chamber with the Knight in tow. His strength was waning quickly… but, he kept a firm grip on his student. His vision was starting to blur, yet they were only halfway through the hall, and the knight continued to struggle...

“I cannot allow… you… to…” He trailed off, finding it difficult to even speak. The light of the temple got closer and closer, but became blurrier and blurrier…

Eventually, he felt the fresh, if sickly, air hit his face. Though he was dizzy, the effects of the Black Egg’s bindings were finally subsiding. The knight had finally given up its flailing as well. Hornet was not too pleased, however.

“Just what did this accomplish?” Hornet’s voice was practically seething with venom. “Though it cannot carry out its task, it could have kept the kingdom alive for at least a few days longer in stasis.”

“Hallownest is a lost cause.” Sheo said firmly, shaking his head. “There’s nothing left to do but leave. I’ve been running all my life… and I hope this is the last time. The knight has weakened its sibling, and has bought us time to find any remaining life in this kingdom so it may be preserved.”

“We CAN’T leave!” Hornet insisted. “Do you not know of the tales? Those who leave Hallownest lose the gift of intelligence. Your memories of this kingdom will fade. Nothing will remain.”

“Nothing at all... '' Sheo's eyes widened, though this wasn’t visible thanks to his mask. “Everyone who leaves forgets everything of the kingdom?”

“Everything.” Hornet said, squinting.

“That’s it, then! I know how to set things right! I can still fix things… though it will be very difficult to do.” His eyes fell upon his pupil solemnly.


	7. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains very minor spoilers for the Final Boss of Hollow Knight.

“What do you mean?” Hornet raised her brow, clearly not understanding what the paintmaster was getting at. The ghost had already failed its purpose, how could fate be any different at this point?

“If it erases memories,” Sheo explained, “then all this little grub needs to do is wander outside the kingdom. Once it has forgotten what I have taught it - which is painful for me to witness - we will pull it back in so it can fulfill its destiny.”

Hornet seemed surprised at the artist’s choice. To willingly give up such a strong bond… it was admirable. Even though she put on a cold face to the world, even she felt regret in the painter’s tone. She nodded slowly at his decision.

“We have to act fast, then. There’s no telling how long we have before the Hollow Knight gets back up.”

Sheo responded with a nod of his own, the Knight looking up at him. Their eyes met, causing Sheo’s to fill with tears once again. Though his pupil would soon be forgetting it all - the lessons, the passion, the personality - he would never forget a second of it. This little bug had changed his life, after all.

Hallownest was more important than one old loner, he had decided. He began to walk towards the exit of the temple, motioning for the Knight to follow. It did, as did Hornet. It was time to put this final plan into action. Sheo wasn’t ready… but he had to be. For all of the kingdom.

“Do you have a plan once the kingdom is under stasis again?” Sheo asked, tilting his head in Hornet’s direction while walking forth, towards Greenpath once again - the closest available point to the edge of the entire kingdom.

“I’m going to save whoever remains,” Hornet began with a heavy sigh, “and then I’m going to depart for a new kingdom, no matter what it takes.”

“You just said that the wasteland drains your memories, didn’t you? That it drains your very intelligence?” Sheo was rather surprised. It was a heroic deed, but it served no purpose if it would cause a regression such as that.

“I have no other options. If all of us stay here, we’ll only get trapped in a loop. The Hollow Knight will break its seals as the infection grows stronger, a new knight will try to take its place, and will either fail or restart the process.” She paused for a moment. “Eventually, one will fail.”

The words hung heavy over Sheo. The kingdom truly seemed to be doomed…

“Why not just… forget the loop, go to the safest place we can find, and spend the last days of the kingdom in blissful ignorance?” He suggested out of purely wishful thinking. “There’s no reason to throw away this Knight’s developments if it is part of a futile, losing battle.”

“It’s tragic, but the stasis will buy me the time I need to search Hallownest for survivors. If there is a chance that the kingdom can live on, even if it is elsewhere, I must take it.” Hornet insisted dutily. “The current state of weakness the vessel is in shall not remain for nearly long enough for me to carry out those duties.”

“...Very well.” Sheo finally nodded. There was no avoiding this heavy task. It was all his fault. He would be held responsible for the eventual fall of the kingdom, if it could not be considered such already. His brothers, and the nailsage, what would they think of him?

He considered following the Knight out of the kingdom, and never returning. That was a cowardly option. He’d be taking the easy way out, as he had when he chose to lay down his nail in exchange for the brush…

It just wasn’t fair. He couldn’t have dreamt that taking this silent bug under his wing would lead to the destruction of the very kingdom he called home. He never thought, nor hoped, that his actions would ever have such a widespread impact unless it was through his artwork. A morbid chuckle escaped him - the Knight, in a way, WAS one of his works of art. He had trained it like he would a child, teaching it passion for the craft and watching as it took his every word to heart.

Now all of that would have to be thrown away. He wouldn’t see the Knight again, for it would replace its kin as the Hollow Knight. He would perhaps get a few more months to live and bear the consequences of his actions, before Hornet either found a new sanctuary, or the infection consumed everything.

He began to cry again, his sobs occasionally echoing out beyond his mask as he felt them stream down his cheeks. Before he had even realized, they had reached the howling cliffs - the final barrier between the kingdom and the outside world.

Hornet stood back as Sheo walked closely behind his pupil, the wind battering at their faces. An intense fog covered the limitless expanse beyond Hallownest. He would consider it beautiful, but could not bring himself to do so in the circumstances. This was farewell…

“Thank you.” He said quietly, kneeling and placing his hands on the knight’s shoulders. It looked back at him. Though its face was inexpressive, it still somehow showed feelings of familial love. The paintmaster hardened his grip as he adjusted it into a hug.

It felt like an eternity, before he finally let go. The knight slowly began taking steps towards the wild emptiness, the tears swelling up in the artist’s eyes more and more as his student got closer to the wasteland.

It became nothing but a silhouette, then paused, the wind causing its cloak to flutter incessantly. Sheo looked up at his student, as it turned around to get one last look at him.

“You should go.” Hornet said suddenly, loud enough so the artist could hear over the winds. “If it sees you when it returns, the memories may still be fresh enough to be recovered. I will pull it back this way when the time is right.”

Sheo was silent. He nodded very sluggishly, as he rose to his feet, slowly moving back the way they had emerged from. His tears had reached his chin, as they slowly fell, hitting the ground either immediately or after spending a moment on his cloak.

“Goodbye…” Sheo shakily said, though nobody was listening. He finally reached the end of the Cliffs, the transitional cavern back into Greenpath. One final time, he looked back at the windy desert. Hornet stood on the eroded ledge that served as the point just before the wind became a beast to overcome, her cloak flowing.

He still had so many questions, but he had inserted himself into the fate of the kingdom for the last time. He jumped into the cavern below, slowly sauntering back towards the well, his expression glum. There was no point in returning to his home to collect his art supplies - they were likely overtaken by infection by now, anyway.

While the little ghost would forget everything with its time in the wasteland exile, Sheo would never forget a moment of their time spent as a family. He stopped before he reached the well leading up to the fading town above. His gaze lowered to the other side of the cavern.

Perhaps he would visit his brothers, one more time, before the kingdom’s fate was sealed once and for all.

Perhaps, even, they could be a family again.

They say a person’s house is their castle. A fortress serving to keep them safe. Sheo disagreed whole-heartedly. The true castle was the invisible, impregnable walls constructed by family and friends. While one could always be defeated if their determination faltered while alone, no enemy would withstand such a fierce bond of support and love.

A bond he wanted to feel again some day, if that were even possible.

Before he proceeded, Sheo painted his pupil’s unique head on the wall of the cavern he currently stood within, using the last of the paint he had brought with him for the fight with the Hollow Knight. With the very last drops, he added a simple “thank you,” written in Hallownestian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading "The Father Paintmaster." I wanted to leave the ending open to interpretation, since a happy ending felt forced without a lot of additional chapters that I felt would be artificial, and a sad ending would leave a sour taste, I think. Therefore, feel free to come up with your own ideas of Hornet's journey and Sheo's fate.
> 
> See you all in the next story.


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